


Cradles in the trees

by CherryBlossomLesbian



Series: Prompt Fills [25]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Blood, Caretaking, Concussions, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Medical Trauma, Prompt Fill, Protective Sam Wilson, Protective Sharon Carter, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, set within TFAWS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 22:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30096060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryBlossomLesbian/pseuds/CherryBlossomLesbian
Summary: He was fighting three different guys, and a fourth one just happened to sneak up on him from behind while he was absorbed in not-getting-killed in a 3v1 fist fight.He took all four of them down in the end, even with his head throbbing and an indescribable amount of pain radiating through his skull.He closed his eyes and took a large breath in in an attempt to stabilize himself, and maybe get a bit of relief from the pain that was quickly becoming worse and worse.OR: Bucky gets a concussion on a mission. Sam and Sharon take care of him.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sharon Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sharon Carter & Sam Wilson
Series: Prompt Fills [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978546
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Cradles in the trees

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Can u do a prompt where during a mission bucky either gets a migraine or a concussion but he hides it and finishes the mission. But then once it’s over he’s all nauseous and dizzy and his head hurts. So then sam and maybe Sharon (post endgame) try to help him but he insists he’s fine because he’s used to dealing with it alone and is not used to others helping. But then sam and sharon help anyway. Whump fic
> 
> I have a lot of experience with concussions so I used a lot of personal experience/feelings when writing this. I love doing migraine/concussion/head injury fics because I relate to them so much. 
> 
> Warnings: Slight dissociation (but in the sorta "I'm just gonna go out of my mind to escape this pain" kinda way), concussions, blood, brief depiction of violence, mention of past medical trauma
> 
> Title from Song of the Sea Lullaby.

In his defense, getting hit in the head with a steel pipe was not his fault. 

He was fighting three different guys, and a fourth one just happened to sneak up on him from behind while he was absorbed in not-getting-killed in a 3v1 fist fight. 

He took all four of them down in the end, even with his head throbbing and an indescribable amount of pain radiating through his skull. 

He closed his eyes and took a large breath in in an attempt to stabilize himself, and maybe get a bit of relief from the pain that was quickly becoming worse and worse. 

The relief didn't come, and he just kept gasping at air, attempting to find some sort of solace in even being able to breathe around the tears threatening to spill over due to the pain. 

And just getting hit once with a piece of steel should not hurt this bad. He's enhanced, and the faulty serum HYDRA gave him altered his body to be more resilient to physical injuries. Usually he could get hit in the head over and over and only feel the tiniest bit of pain, but this…

This is something else entirely. 

Nevertheless, he pushes on, stepping over the bodies surrounding him and further down the corridor. He's meant to search for an intel, whether it be digital or on a piece of paper. His mission this time was supposed to be stealth, but considering the trail of blood that's not his own he's left, he's pretty sure he's failed on that part. 

Sharon and Sam are in another part of the building, looking for an old HYDRA commander who Zemo pointed them towards. It's funny, how much information on bad guys he's willing to share, even when he's in prison himself. It's like he's still determined he'll break out again, and letting their little team handle other villians will leave less competition for him. 

They had decided to keep him on the stealth side of things with information gathering rather than him searching for the old commander. According to Zemo, this commander was one who had also been The Winter Soldier's handler quite a few times, which meant he knew the trigger words. Of course, they no longer affected him like they used to, but hearing them still set him on edge and it was best to avoid it if possible. 

He crossed a corridor, finding a locked door labeled "STORAGE". 

He looked to his metal arm, focusing on a panel just a few inches down from his wrist. It took several tries for his brain to connect to the arm properly, which was not at all assisted by the pain that throbbed not only at the back of his head where he'd been hit, but also at his temple, but the panel slowly slid open, revealing a tiny little compartment with a bobby pin inside.

In his defense, he became experienced with picking locks with bobby pins back in Bucharest, and he can't really keep them in his hair anymore, so keeping one in a small compartment of his arm was the next best thing. 

Within a minute, the door to the storage room was wide open. He put the bobby pin back, resealed the panel, and slipped into the room. He locked it behind him. 

There was a light switch on the wall, which he clicked, and for a moment a flickering lightbulb illuminated. 

It only made Bucky's pain amp up, so he turned it off just as soon as it was turned on.

He did get a glimpse of the room, however, and it was more like a closet than anything. There were shelves lining every wall in the small, enclosed space, but they looked mostly bare. 

He sighed for a moment, before touching the metal shelves with the tips of his vibranium fingers. Dust gathered on them immediately, and the only things he found on said shelves was a single post-it note. 

If his vision hadn't suddenly gone blurry, and the writing on the note wasn't so small, he would be able to read it. 

There was a buzzing coming in his ear, and for a moment he thought it was another symptom of whatever head injury he'd managed to acquire. 

Soon, though, he realized it was his comms line reconnecting. The signals in the base had disrupted the connection between their earpieces, which they were aware of ahead of time. He's not sure why it's reconnecting now.

"Hey, B-cky, can you h-ar me?" The voice that comes in his ear is broken up, but intelligible and recognizable. It's Sharon on the line, although he's sure Sam will join in soon enough. 

"Yeah, yeah, I can hear you." He responds back, wincing at how even the sound of voices amplifies his pain. 

"Is everything okay? Are you hurt?" Sharon asks, clearly catching his whine. 

"It's nothing I can't handle." He replies, but at this point, he's doubting that more and more. He can survive pain, he's had plenty of it, but every minute it's getting worse and he's not sure how much longer he can hold out without screaming out in agony. 

"Right, okay. I'm gonna pretend I believe you. I disrupted the base's signal, so comms should work again. Sam's on his way to get you, I'm at the quinjet with Mr. I'm-So-Evil over here." Bucky hears an indignant huff from the other end of the line, which he assumes came from the villain of the week that Sharon and Sam had successfully captured. 

A few moments passed with neither of them talking, before there was a knock on the door of the storage room. 

"Buck, you in here?" Sam shouted from the other side of the door, and the volume of his voice made Bucky's head pound. 

"Yeah, I'm here, holdon." Bucky grabbed the doorknob and opened it, seeing Sam for the first time since the start of the mission. 

His nose was bleeding a little bit, and there was a gentle bruise forming on his left cheek, like he'd been punched in the face. 

"Why are you hiding in a closet?" Sam asked, and in lieu of answering, Bucky just handed Steve the post-it note. 

"Shit." Sam muttered as he read it. Must've been something important on it. 

"Alright, c'mon, let's get out of here-" Sam begin, pocketing the note and watching as Bucky stepped out of the closet and into the hallway, moving in front of Sam so his backside was visible. 

"Hey Bucky?" He asked, seemingly abandoning his last sentence. 

"Mhm?" He hummed back as he continued moving through the base, desperate to get out of here and back into the solace of his own bedroom. Sam was following behind him, but walking slower. 

"Why is there blood on your neck?" 

Bucky paused. 

He reached back with his flesh hand, and hey, what do you know, there's definitely something wet running down his neck, and blood would make the most sense. 

"Just a hit. That's all." Bucky attempted to shrug, but the way it moved his head turned out to be a surefire way to spike up his pain level. Nevertheless, he continued walking. 

"What'd they hit you with? Vibranium?" Sam ran to catch up with Bucky, hand hovering over the back of his neck, trying to trace the source of the blood. 

Bucky shrugged again, and lord, he's really gotta stop doing that because the momentarily upsurge in his own suffering is one of the worst things he's ever felt and he's not sure how much longer he can bite his lip to keep from screaming. 

"Dude, your head is bleeding." Sam states as they finally exit the base and are back into the sunlight of the evening. The base had been largely dark or dim, which Bucky's head appreciated. 

His head doesn't not appreciate the sun. Not one bit. 

As they move towards the quinjet, Bucky's breathing turns labored. The combination of the light and the loud sound of the quinjet's engine has him so close to letting the tears fall from the corners of his eyes. 

Sharon notices Sam's troubled expression, and immediately connects it to Bucky's pained one. 

"What happened?" She questioned, having to yell to be heard over the quinjet. 

Sam puts both his hands around Bucky's ears, acting as makeshift headphones when he sees Bucky cringing at the noise. It only helped a little, and there was no doubt it probably made them both look stupid, but it was endearing in a very Sam-like way. 

"Back of his head is bleeding. Probably a concussion. He said he got "hit"." Sam says the last part like he doesn't believe it at all. 

Sharon just nods as they load the quinjet. It was weird walking in tandem with Sam to keep his hands on his ears, but it was also nice in that weird way that their friendship was. 

Once they were in the quinjet and seated on the benches attached to the cabin walls, Sharon plucks both a first aid kit and another unlabeled white box from the overhead storage bins. 

She opens the unlabeled box first, pulling out a part of headphones. 

"Noise cancelling." She explained. "I tried to make it so most quinjets have at least one in cases of concussion." 

Bucky gives her a thumbs up as consent to put them on. His body has gone largely limp now that he's safely in the quinjet and he can't hide the injury from Sam or Sharon. If he couldn't hide, it was better to just give in to the pain and let them care for him. After all, they'd never let him live it down that he didn't accept help after an injury. He'd kept a broken femur to himself for all of two hours six months ago and they're still teasing him about it. 

Sam removed his hands, and a second later the headphones were on. 

The whirring of the engine went away. The gentle beats of chatter from the radio in the pilot's station was gone. 

For the first time since it started, the pain began to ease up a bit. 

Sharon speaks, but he can't hear it, and he's not feeling well enough to read lips. 

Then there's a cloth pressing against the cut in his scalp that was the source of the blood on his neck, and Sharon is gently cleaning the blood around Sam's noise with a cotton pad dipped in a clear substance. 

He just floats away for a bit. For the rest of the ride back to base. The cloth on his head is the only thing securing him back to reality. 

He's just blocking everything out. 

That seems to do wonders for his pain levels. 

Once they land, Sam goes to regular first aid and debrief, while Sharon takes Bucky down into one of the back stairways of the SHIELD base that leads directly to an office. 

There's a dark green couch in the office, positioned in front of the desk. Sharon turns the blinds in the room down, and sets Bucky on the couch. 

He lets the headphones fall off then. It's quieter up here, in a dark office that is not currently in use. 

"Sit here, cloth to your head, don't lay back. I'll be right back." Sharon says in a whisper, not wanting for a response before heading out the front door of the office. 

He does as she says. He sits, keeps the cloth pressing against the cut in his head, and keeps his posture straight and upright. He takes a few deep breaths as the pain begins to emerge again. It had stayed largely dormant for most of the flight, and he loathes that it has to return. 

She comes back a few minutes later, with a man in tow. He's holding something that represents a briefcase. 

The man sits next to Bucky on the couch. Sharon leans against the desk. 

"Hey. I'm here to patch you up, if you'll let me." The man says in a quiet voice, completely skipping introductions. 

Bucky eyes the briefcase. Must be full of medical supplies. 

"You qualified?" He asks, and a light smile graces Sharon's face. 

"He's a nurse, Buck. Out of uniform, I thought that would be better." Sharon informs, and even with Bucky's currently messed up head, he clicks the pieces together. 

Sometimes he forgets Sam and Sharon know about his medical trauma. Sometimes he forgets they've witnessed him first-hand being freaked out about doctors. 

And yeah, Sharon's right. This is better. No lab coats, no suffocating smell of antiseptics, no crinkling of exam table paper. 

He turns to face the nurse again. 

"Yeah. Go ahead." 

~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, when the numbing cream around the stitches in his head began to wear off, Sam meets him and Sharon up in the office. He's back in his normal clothes, a blue t-shirt and jeans. Bucky is still in his mission uniform, as is Sharon. 

"How is he?" Sam says in a whisper, as if he thinks Bucky can't hear. 

Which, yeah, he probably thinks that, considering Bucky is laying down on the couch with his eyes closed, but the doctor who came in to evaluate him a little bit ago said he shouldn't sleep just yet. 

"Definite concussion. He got the cut on his head patched up." Sharon filled Sam in, before looking over to Bucky. "Barnes, open your eyes if you're not asleep." 

He groans lightly, but opens his eyes for a moment before closing them once again. 

The door handle to the office creaked as it was turned, and in the next second the doctor who had evaluated him stepped back into the room. No lab coat, of course. Lab coats were one of the biggest set-offs for Bucky. 

"I think you guys can head home now. He can sleep now, but due to the extent of his concussion, he needs to be woken up every two hours for the next twenty-four hours." The doctor says as he hands a few pieces of paper to Sam. 

Bucky groans. 

Sam looks over the papers as the doctor bids them farewell. It's a simple graphic of the signs and symptoms of a worsening concussion, as well as ways to check for pupil dilation. 

"Alright. So, who's gonna be on Bucky concussion duty first?" Sam asks, haphazardly tossing the papers on the desk. Sharon shakes her head and picks them up, quickly reading over the information herself. They've all dealt with a lot of injuries, so the papers likely didn't say anything they didn't already know, but it's always good to check.

"I'll volunteer. That way I don't have to do it in the morning." Sharon picks up the headphones that had been dropped on the couch as they prepare to head back to their apartment. 

"Good enough. That means I can actually sleep. I'm exhausted after that debrief." Sam comments as Bucky gets up, steading himself on the desk before he can stand properly. He's still pretty floaty after two different dissociative episodes, one on the quinjet and the other while the nurse was stitching him up, as well as fatigued from the mission and concussion. 

"Right. Barnes, by the way, that post-it note you found? It might be our next clue to track down a group that's been trying to create their own enhanced for decades. And they might have done it, considering how bad of a concussion you got from one hit." Sharon says with a sense of both unimportance and urgency. 

And he supposed that she's probably feeling both, actually. In her work life, this is urgent. 

But in her personal life? It's insignificant to the fact that her friend is hurt and needs her help. 

He was going to respond with something self- deprecating, but stops himself at the last minute, filing out the door alongside the two. 

When they get back to their apartment, Sam makes some microwave ramen and makes him eat it in bed after he gets changed out of his uniform and into a pair of fleece pajamas. Sharon places a cup of water on his bedside table, and tells him to get some sleep. 

Even through he knows he'll be woken up in two hours, Bucky finds himself cuddling into his pillow and letting his eyes slip closed. 

Everything softens as he begins to go into the trance of sleep. 

He lets out the first real sigh of relief for the first time in hours, finally finding comfort in knowing he can rest and he'll be cared for. 

It's the best feeling in the world, he thinks idly before he finally falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to submit a prompt for me to write, check out the notes of my prompt fills series this fic is in!
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cartersleia)
> 
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